Through the Heartlands
by KABren
Summary: The Family of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary are returning home from a long and difficult journey that brought them all closer together and inspired self-assurance in Lucien and Malkhai that what they felt for each other was indeed love.
1. Part 1

Reality melted into a deep and lulling dreamland. An entrancing vibe at the pub end of the newly-extended Roxey Inn chased away any dark entities that might have arrested poor souls. Music, laughter, stories, obscene jokes, and the high spirits that amplified the enjoyment of them all collaborated to create an evening unlike anything routine. The Family of the Cheydinhaal Sanctuary engaged with those that they might be paid to kill some other time in the future. It was a night to be everything but what they were not. Who could blame them for wanting to celebrate in such a way, especially since the long roads and days of being put to the ultimate test were long behind them. It was time to return home, which was only a day and a half ahead.

Most of their customers were the type of drinkers that didn't mind if everyone in the inn knew that they had one too many. But there were reflective drinkers that quietly sipped away at the far end, disappearing from all concern or even acknowledgment from the rest.

Malkhai Ale'Zandre sat peacefully with the Speaker and head of the Cheydinhaal Sanctuary, Lucien LaChance. There was so much to look back on, but for them they reached out to a time far beyond the night the family departed for Anvil. They both backtracked to the time they first met; when Malkhai's fierce battles in the Imperial City Arena attracted attention from a being of a different plane of existence... when Lucien gave her an offer that seemed far better than the life she felt she had to live in order to get back on her feet. In her eyes it was not entirely different, but it was the sense of family, respect, and the promise of wellbeing that enticed her.

During the many weeks they endured the ferociousness of travels throughout the empire she learned much more about her Family Members, especially Lucien. She learned that they had more in common than she originally believed; how he portrayed himself in the beginning was quite different from his truth. He had a 'business-as-usual' sort of attitude about his place in the Dark Brotherhood. Much like the dunmer, the roots of his membership in the Dark Brotherhood took hold when he believed the empire in its sad state was a hopeless breeding ground of the ignorant and corrupt; of vain, arrogant, bigoted, selfish individuals that no one should mourn for.

Shadow Justice. That was his delight.

This is why he was especially entertained by the death of Rufio, wanted for the murder and rape of a young woman in Bravil. He thought he could outrun the law until he died an old man, but he didn't know that someone beyond his physical realm knew what he did, and that he would send out a mortal creature to ensure adequate blood-price.

Lucien had gained as much knowledge of Malkhai, secretly relieved that she was not one of the savages with a lust for all things blood, gore, and pain. True that she was not the only sane money-minded member of the Dark Brotherhood, but he didn't feel the same connection with the others that he had with Malkhai. The way she carried herself was unique and captivating to him; so confident, fearless, matured, and intelligent. He would not fool himself to think he was a pure saint by Cyrodiil's standards, but there was a certain level of atrocity that he believed was too much. Malkhai wasn't near that level. She was a woman of the gray- willing to kill if she thought she had to, but willing to save when she felt compelled enough. She never boasted or reveled in the details of her kills; it sickened her when others did.

Although both were as transparent as they could be about their feelings for one another, uncertainty would discourage them from talking about it. Surely the Dark Brotherhood spoke often of love; Telaendril and Gogron were fine examples of a couple that were open about their relationship for years without repercussion. But they shared the same rank- would it be different if it was between an Eliminator and their Speaker?

Even Lucien didn't know because it seldom happened, or at least if it did it was never spoken of. In most cases the Family Members would be soulbound to outsiders.

There existed a book in the Imperial Sanctuary that addressed each and every law that ever existed in the history of the Brotherhood and the group it preceded. The Five Tenets were basically like the Ten Commandments- the most important of laws, and yet they were not to be treated as the only ones to follow. If there was a law that prohibited fraternization it would surely be in there.

Although it was doubtful that the Brotherhood followed them all in the last two centuries, it was not doubted that if one was concerned enough personally in a situation they deemed problematic, they would eagerly search for that 'one key sentence' in the book that would condemn them...and he knew there was someone that would do it.

Malkhai took her third serving of mead and sweetroll outside with her. She was hardly bothered by the noise but the cluster of bodies produced a thick humidity and a rather stagnant odor that became too overwhelming to tolerate.

It was late, but the sky was not blackened yet- the remnants of an intense Middas lingered above; a sharp splash of orange and magenta hanging above the western sun that hid behind the blue Jerall Mountains. Malkhai took a moment to marvel at the way those colors played on the palace of the Imperial City; the Roxy Inn had just the right seat on the mountain slopes to see clearly without the landscape obscuring the view. Only one other place had a better view, but the mannerisms of the Serethi sisters at Aleswell made it difficult to consider giving them business. Too bad for Diram.

"Are you alright?" A certain Imperial purred when he emerged from the Roxey. He was checking to make sure his Eliminator didn't puke and pass out, which would be especially bad if it was outside. Sun's Dusk was just around the bend and cold nights were bad for the drunken who wouldn't notice the cold, pass out in it, and die of hypothermia.

He was relieved when he saw her casually sitting on the rock under the great oak tree, with one arm crossed over the legs that folded into her chest and the other bringing up the brown bottle to her lips. She heard him, but she appeared disconnected... affixed on the marvelous landscape.

"Mal?" He poked.  
"Yes, Speaker. I'm fine. Got a lot to think about, that's all."

LaChance quietly wandered over and sat down on the rock next to her, and although he was being as professional as he always was, there was a noticeable radiation that Malkhai detected... the darling shyness of a grade-school boy daring to sit next to a girl with some uneasiness.

"There is a lot to think about... for all of us. We've been away from home for so long, saw many good and bad things..."  
"Yeah- and ya know I've done all of it before, but before I was alone... it was a different experience and... now I don't think I ever want to be alone again. I can do it, but being a part of a team that can work together... I like that."  
A chuckle fluttered from Lucien's throat. "It's just too bad... it's funny, but it's still too bad about Mheorc."

Malkhai's adjoining laughter was more or less clumsy snorting. "Oh yes... traveled many miles, braved lots of crap, only to discover him dead from a Skooma overdose. It would've taken all of us to bring that big-ass brute down, but then he just dies of a heart attack. I don't know if I want to get mad or laugh."

"I'm not mad. I don't think it was a terrible waste of time." Lucien admitted. "Although that mission was pointless, it was nevertheless enlightening. But... you do know that when we're all at Cheydinhal again it will be back to the usual gig. Everyone will be completing contracts on their own. It would be great to team up for every mission but because of the rate of contracts we're given..."  
"Yes."  
"And... I would have to leave town for a few more weeks. Speakers don't get much time to spend in one place, really."  
"So I hear."

The rest of the conversation would wander into various other subjects- as time passed and more mead was consumed, little could be remembered about it. Bits and pieces of what the topics might have been were lost in the fog. But something was said that fearlessness freed from a place locked in the deepest reaches of their souls.

After lips spoke for over an hour... they connected. Tender, warm, trembling kisses were exchanged. The blurry, hazy, surrealistic surroundings would grow darker...and darker...until everything went black for what felt like a few minutes.

But eight hours passed during that blackness.

Malkhai awoke at half-past daybreak, believing she had fallen asleep under the oak tree. But she learned quickly that at some point she must have been carried back inside and gently placed in one of the Roxey's rooms.  
In the fresh wake all she could remember so far was having drinks in the corner of the pub. But she was quickly reminded of other things that transpired when she felt a soft tug on the sheets and a mass rolling around on the other side of the bed. She didn't turn around immediately. The shock of it froze her in place for a moment. She already knew who it was, but didn't know how he was going to react when he saw her there.

Curiosity eventually compelled Malkhai to glance over. Her heart felt disconnected from the rest of her body the way it pounded under her rib cage. Slowly, quietly, and fearfully she turned around... and sure enough it was the Speaker. The way he was sprawled on the bed indicated he conked out hard and had not woken yet.

Then the memories began to pour in; the drinks, the talk outside under the tree, and then the kiss... what happened after then?

It required extra effort to remember what happened... significant memories of the kiss emerged first; then she remembered the way one gloved hand lightly stoked the back of her head...and the other rested on her waist. Her 'nimble' fingers ran through his hair; maybe the tie in the back came loose then because as he pulled himself forward for a longer and more sensual kiss, a blanket of raven strands fell onto her chest.

And then... then it rained... or they noticed the rain after it approached an hour ago. It was hard to know for certain because the world had contracted... everything outside themselves no longer existed for that brief but beautiful moment of confession. Still lost in a blur of emotion and intoxication, they swaggered into the Roxey to settle in bed, without the intention of resting right away.

They laughed as they fumbled around, arm in arm, up the creaky wooden stairs. Somewhere Malkhai was surely wondering what the hell she was doing... was she really going to do this with Lucien? But the question of whether or not she wanted to never entered her mind because she answered that already thousands of times. She did... she wanted it for a long time.

But the memory of what happened after the door closed behind them was even vaguer than the previous. Malkhai was beginning to feel faint and she couldn't keep her eyes open. All she could recall was what she felt physically and spiritually. She remembered the embrace, the firm but gentle movements, and the overpowering sensation that erupted and made her soul feel more alive than ever.  
For the first time in what must've been over a decade, Malkhai cried openly... because she then realized it was the first time she'd experienced anything remotely intimate.

But was it more than an embrace? Did they really take it as far as it appeared they did?

She snapped out of her moment of recollection when he heard Lucien waking up. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, anxiously listening for his reaction.

A mumbled groan rustled around in his throat as he stretched. Scratching his stomach as he turned over to one side, his eyes opened in a slant... but popped wide open when he saw her. That's when Malkhai knew she was seen... when he went dead quiet.

"Whu..." Was all he managed to say. Everything else was said a jumble of mumbling.  
It made Malkhai uneasy to hear what sounded like regret. It made her begin to feel that way. But Lucien loved her immensely and wanted so much to be with her, but he was upset that they were drunk when it finally happened. It made it seem like it was result of too much mead- that was not what he wanted it to feel like.

"Mal." He said in a half-whisper, putting a hand respectably on her shoulder.  
"Mmm...hrruu?" She replied, pretending that she was just waking up. "H...hey what are...whaat...oh crap what happened?" So early in the morning she did not succeed at sounding genuinely surprised.  
"Nothing." Lucien answered after a long pause, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands as he gathered memory of what happened.

That lost piece of the story that Malkhai could not remember is what Lucien could. He explained to her that they did tangle and toss in the room, but neither had but a sliver of energy left, so they passed out on the spot before it went beyond kissing and caressing.

_Not sure how I feel about that; relief or disappointment?_ She thought.

There was more on the tip of his tongue. Malkhai could see that there was so much he wanted to say by seeing the glint of eagerness in his soft brown eyes, but the voices of their Brothers and Sisters downstairs told them that it was not the right time to engage in a deep conversation. It was time to get back on the road.

"I guess we should get going again." Lucien said, with an equal feeling of warmth and coldness in the way he spoke towards the floor. He was not upset, but he was also in a state of uncertainty. He was not uncertain about how he felt; he knew he loved her, but he wondered if it would be fair for Malkhai... when he is away for so long. "They're probably wondering where we are."

_I think they figured it out._ Lucien wanted to add. _I think they noticed how much we bonded before we did._

He trusted his family but still feared that through word of mouth the truth would circulate in areas he didn't want them to. The punishment for violating most laws in the Brotherhood is either torture or death.

"I think this aught to be talked about don't you think?" Malkhai asked, almost pleading through hopeful eyes.  
"Of course... and we will... later." Lucien's grin over the shoulder gave her a good measure of comfort.

As he hastily dressed he noticed Malkhai staring blankly at his short sword. He thought it was the perfect opportunity to crack a joke. "I suppose you had a good look at my sword."  
Malkhai countered with a wry grin. "As well as you got a good look at my sheath."

They both broke into warm laughter.  
-

"It iz about time!" M'raaj exclaimed when they saw Lucien walk steadily down the stairs. Malkhai gave a nonchalant wave to the group as she followed.

"It's my fault entirely. It's hard for me to wake up so early in the morning. Lucien had to keep poking me."

_Poking...hehehe_. Malkhai's gutter-mind snickered.

"We're not too far from home right now! Why are we waiting for anod'ther day to pass! Let us get to Cheydinhal already." The ill-tempered feline grumbled.  
"Did everyone eat?" Malkhai asked.  
"Yes we all ate...two hours ago when we all were supposed to be up and ready!"

When M'raaj made more than enough snide comments he was awarded a scowl from the Imperial. It was just enough to remind M'raaj that his lack of respect for his Dark Sister was not approved.

"Then let us be on our way." Lucien ordered. "Get all the gear in the cart, we'll be out shortly. We're just going to grab a bite for the road."

(End of Part 1)


	2. Part 2

Part II

Few words were exchanged between Malkhai and Lucien throughout the remainder of their journey home, but not because they wished to be silent. The only topic of interest was something that they did not want discussed in the presence of the other family members. But ironically it was their silence that told them everything.

"Looks like it wants to rain some more." Malkhai noted when she noticed a long stretch of blue clouds approaching from the west. It indicated more than just rain; it was a storm, sweeping over Cyrodiil to unleash Heaven's anger. The journey would become a race to reach Cheydinhal before the storm did because it would bring lightning, torrential rain, mudslides, and other disasters that would potentially crush the vulnerable fleshbags. "And that... is one ugly-lookin cloud." "Figures." Said Antoinette. "We always get so many rainstorms this time of year. I can only imagine what Leyawiin is getting."  
"I picked up word of massive flooding on the Green Road- from Bravil all the way down to the end of Leyawiin. Lots of people died." Teinaava added.  
"Sad... well sad if they were on our list hehe. No gold for us when something else kills our targets, eh? Hehehe." M'raaj cackled.

Malkhai was hardly amused; she hinted that when she responded with a grim, solemn tone. "There will always be someone out there wishing to have a person die to satisfy their petty selfish need. It's Cyrodiil, remember."

The skies roared, reminding the travelers again what was on their heels. Fortunately they were half-way up the Blue Road, so if they couldn't beat the storm to the city they could at least have all the possible obstacles behind them.

Well... at least most.

It was not going to be the first storm that passed through the area- a week ago the Heartlands received a rain storm that lasted three straight days. The ground had not yet solidified, so the uphill climb on foot and wagon proved to be a challenge for them. The mud was as slick and betraying as snow; it collected in thick clusters on everything that heaved and raked through it, especially wheels and feet. Though it was fortunate that it was not infested with disease-carrying mosquitoes, it was yet a persistent nuisance because every ten minutes or so they had to stop to deal with the frequent wheel-jamming it caused. And if that wasn't enough to cause problems, the horse lost its balance when the mud gathered around its hooves; it was a wonder it hadn't broken a leg.  
As a final warning to the Family from the approaching storm, a strong gust of icy wind with a light spray of rain rushed up the slopes as Gogron repeatedly smacked the wagon's wheels with a stick and a bagful of curses for the umpteenth time. Though she helped Gogron and the rest scrape out the mud, Malkhai's mind was in the storm, ever so fearful of the lightning due to an experience she had with it decades ago. Every time a bolt cracked the air it unsettled her further. It was a wicked five hours of wits and composure put to the ultimate test, all because of the damn mud that happened to be the thickest, stickiest, clay-like substance of the region; just the perfect consistency of that which the builders of the empire used to fill in the small cracks of buildings to keep the cold air out. Just to make the experience even more 'fun', the cold gnawed through their boots and gloves, making it painful to walk and claw out the stubborn debris.

"I can see the west gate!" Lucien called out after he peered around the wagon while pushing it. "See... over there! We're almost home."

The Cheydinhal Family learned to tolerate Gogron's temper and impatience long ago. Being the type to carry out contracts the way he wanted to instead of the way he was instructed by his superiors, and allowing minuscule issues infuriate him, it was expected of him to become more than a handful if he allowed his Family to get involved in those 'moments' of his.  
One more round with the wagon pushed him over the edge, especially when the city was within sight. Following the irritating and pointless rumble of profanity, there was a more blunt assault on it.

"Gogron stop it!" Ocheeva bellowed. "Stop it before you hurt someo-"

Ocheeva couldn't calm the orc enough- he had snapped into in a trance of terrible rage. It was the very thing that sealed his destiny with the Brotherhood- his anger was responsible for the deaths that intrigued the Night Mother, and while he seemed to be a good asset to the Brotherhood it was the very same anger that would potentially get a Family Member killed as well.

"Oh-m ghuu... back'p back'p back'p!" Lucien blasted when he saw the horse and wagon slide backwards. The wheels were not turning, but the unforgiving gravity and strong push caused it to slide down the hill. The Speaker reached out and pulled the emergancy release lever to free the horse from the wagon, but while his focus was on the animal he didn't realize that the sleeve on his other arm was caught under one of the wheels.

Two sounds struck Malkhai with a sickness- the sound of bone crunching under fearsome weight and the scream that erupted from LaChance. The wheel had been pushed onto his left hand.

"Damnit y'mother-!" The dark elf roared. She was ready to dart over to Lucien, but then she saw the front end of the wagon tilt upwards. She hardly realized that she gave Gogron a good shove to the side in her frantic haste to pull it back down. "You could've fuck'n killed him damn it! You get yer fuck'n head out of your ass and axe and you might just realize you can't make shit work by beating it... you stupid orc!"  
Gogron coiled like a wounded dog, not expecting such a lash from the usually apathetic dunmer. Fighting rage with rage wasn't a recommended method, but it worked because of the element of shock.

"Make better use that brute strength of yours by helping us pull this freaking thing up for God's sake!" She bellowed while she and the other Family Members pulled with little avail.

Gogron quietly did as he was told, recognizing some sort of authoritative figure in the elf.

When Lucien's limb was released from the agonizing hold that the ground and wheel had on it he fumbled back onto his feet, hunching over in pain. He tried to flex the bones in his left hand, but they would not work for him. It was confirmed- they really were broken.

The orc expected the Speaker to commence a verbal beating, but when he stepped uneasily over to him, he simply locked onto Gogron's eyes with his and said with a slight struggle: "We'll have a chat... about this later. Let's just...l's just g't ho-rrgh home."

"You first, Speaker." Malkhai insisted, taking the reins of the horse and guiding it over to Lucien. "I'm sure the others will be fine on their own at this point; home is not too far away. You need medical attention right away. Get on."  
"Giving me orders, Eliminator?" Lucien managed a smirked.  
"Yes. Get your ass on the horse." Malkhai smirked back.

With an eye roll he 'allowed' Malkhai to help him onto the saddle. After a quick check to make sure he was comfortably settled, she wasted no time guiding the horse up the remainder of the road. After carefully mounting in front of him, she shouted over her shoulder: "I will be back; I'm just going to see Lucien to the hospital!"

"Don't bother- we'll be fine. It's not far, like you said! Stay with our Speaker- he needs a Family with him!" Ocheeva replied.  
"Are you sure about that? I can he-"  
"Yes! We'll be fine! Go on now!"

Checking over her shoulder every now and then, Malkhai continued. The sight of the Family getting over the steep incline and past the sluggish terrain brought a calmness to her. The guards at the gate would've posed as another hurdle if they were not among the 'cooperative' lot. They gave the assassins a respectable nod while cautious eyes checked witnesses of their admittance; it should be no surprise that there were a handful of these guards if the Count of Cheydinhal was persuaded to refuse the existence of the Abandoned House. But once they were in the city they had to be on the look out for the 'straightedge' guards.

(Yes I am aware there are officially no hospitals in Oblivion; but there are no children, crappers, bathtubs, showers, or schools or other things that would make sense to have in a healthy and functional civilization. I'm sure if it was important to the game there would be but I think the devs thought they made Oblivion massive enough.)

"We should ditch the robes before we go in." Malkhai whispered in the alley behind the hospital, turning her head in all directions to keep an eye out for guards.  
"There is no need. They know who I am... and they don't care." Lucien assured. "What about the other patients that might be guards or bounty hunters?"  
Lucien chuckled. "Just trust me, hon- I've been here many times before. I know how to be cautious. That is why we are going through the cellar doors here." "I trust you it's just that I..." warmth rushed to her face when she caught one little word that Lucien never used before when he addressed her. A purplish coloration formed on her cheeks; it was the result of a blush beneath her light blue skin. "...I trust you."

Barely breathing, Malkhai helped Lucien through the doors and down the creaky wooden steps.

Relax, he broke his hand not his leg. She told herself, shaking off the worry. Though that could've happened too... stupid orc.

"Back again, Mr. LaChance?" Someone called out.

Malkhai lifted her gaze up from his hand to find the source of the voice. A man in a long white robe emerged from a pair of curtains with a welcoming smile.

"So what'cha got for me this time? Did that bite swell up again?"  
"No, that healed just fine. T'be short someone was acting a dumbass and... I got a broken hand because of it." "Of course- it's always the ones with their heads screwed on right that become the victims when the idiot of the group screws up." The man hurried over to inspect the injury, which was all too easy because it was much brighter than the average cellar. "It's seems to be a cruel law of nature. Now come with me and... well you know the drill."  
"Indeed... oh Mal, this is Dr. Harin Mathasse...doctor this is the new member I told you about; Malkhai Ale'Zandre."  
"So now I meet the legend. What an honor. I'd shake your hand but eh..." Harin didn't want to risk having any sort of germs or bacteria on his thoroughly-washed hands while he handled injuries. Not only was Lucien's hand broken, but he suffered a few lacerations from the sharp rocks that were mixed in with the mud.  
"It's alright. Nice to meet you as well. This is the first time I heard of a back-door medical service for the Brotherhood... that's what it is right?"  
"Eeeh sort-of. He's not a member but he's willing to treat our injuries without telling the authorities about us being here... just like those guards at the gate." Lucien then grumbled when his thoughts went back to his hand. "That Gogron... he should be grateful it was not deliberate."  
"He would know better I'm sure... he saw what you did to a guy that was being insubordinate." Malkhai admitted. "What did that Brother do?"  
"He told me to get my ass on a horse." Lucien narrowed his eyes as he looked back at Malkhai, whom had a noticeably flushed face... that is until she saw him smile.  
"No. No he- eeagh..." "Sorry. This is going to hurt a little. Just keep talking to get your mind off of it. Harin said.  
"He had an issue with taking orders from females... too much backtalk and disrespect towards them promoted him to . The Example ."  
"So did you kill him or just give him a good bleed'n?"  
"I decided to allow some sexism bleed out. I didn't kill him, but he self-exiled several years ago."  
"I guess no one should screw with you and the Family then, huh?"  
"Yes, it would be wise to not let that audacious, take-charge nature step out of bounds, Mal." He winked.

Malkhai laughed those words off. Speaker or not he was still a human being with a bendable mind. With the right amount of favor from him he would be more ready to turn the other cheek for her, and he did numerous times if she didn't cross the line in front of the other members. But it was not her goal to manipulate him. She did not want his affections simply to gain immunity, rewards, or anything else but mutual affection. It was already out in the open. Now it was all a matter of finding the right time and place to discuss it. Surely they knew that they loved each other, but there was so much to say... words were an important part of moving forward.

"Hey Herin!" Someone shouted from upstairs, causing Malkhai and Lucien to nervously hunch.  
"What?" Herin calmly asked.  
"Got an update fer ya. They're predict'n quite a shitfulla storm 'ere fer the next seven-to-nine days here. Might want to put that trip to Bruma on hold!" "Course." Herin mumbled. "Guess the family will have to wait another week then. Thanks Orelle!"

"'Shitfulla storm' doesn't sound good." Malkhai half-joked.  
"No. But... well... I hate to say this but this might turn out well for me. I could use a vacation." Lucien admitted.  
"What, that road trip wasn't enough vacation? All that fun camping, fishing, hunting..."  
"Pffts- shut up!" Lucien gave her a crooked grin and a light punch to her arm.

"That should do it." Herin said. Lucien's wound was dressed up well enough with layers of bandages to keep it clean and immobilized. "I know you're a man that likes to work but I order you to let that hand rest- this is perhaps one of the worst places to get injuries of this serious level because if it doesn't heal up well it could cause some permanent problems... usage of it would not be as good as before... if good at all. You understand, Speaker?"  
"I do. Thanks Herin. Here's the twenty gold for your help."  
"Thanks... and you- you make sure he follows my orders." Herin pointed at Malkhai.  
"Yessir." Malkhai grinned with a nod. 


	3. Part 3

Lucien carefully climbed out from the cellar; after his usual scan for guards he gestured for Malkhai to follow when it was confirmed that the alley was clear.

"Let's go to the Sanctuary. It will put me at ease to know everyone is settled well."  
"Same. Though no shortcut- it would be easier and safer for you to go through the 'Door of Doom'."

Malkhai took Lucien by the arm as they walked to the Abandoned House, which was just across the east bridge. Again she wondered why it was necessary for her to do so when he was not having trouble walking. He broke his hand; not his foot, his knee, or anything else that would cause him to limp. Perhaps, then, it was for comfort. It was a single gesture that declared: "Hey, I'm here for you. I will always be here for you when you are in need. You can depend on me."

When they arrived at the Sanctuary they immediately knew where the Family was. They could hear the drunken laughter from the living quarters.

"You really don't need to hold onto my arm." Lucien humbly purred to the dunmer before they entered the resting area. "I think I'll be alright. But thank you... Dear Sister."

Malkhai winked with a warm smile before she turned away to join the group at the table. Not even a glance was given to Gogron; she would forgive him, but not that night. His foolish behavior should not be so easily pardoned, at least as far as she was concerned.

"Brothers and Sisters!" Lucien called out from the doorway. Everyone immediately froze in place to acknowledge the Speaker. "I see that everyone is here, so I assume there were no further casualties within the short distance you were left alone."

Everyone either shook their heads or mumbled something to the effect of 'no'.

"Alright... well I received word that the storm is going to brutally punish the land for a long time... including the roads. Any out-of-town trips will have to be put on hold for a while; as you well know the area already suffered severe mudslides... there will be plenty more to follow in the next week or so."  
"That's good news for you, Lucien." Vicente commented.  
"Yes I know. I'll admit I see a silver lining in all of this. The rest of you should too, unless your contracts require you to take out someone in this city. Otherwise, until the hellish storm subsides, everyone should take this opportunity to rest up from all the weeks of our travels. I will be at the fort unt..."

"Wait, you're going back to Farragut? Is that safe for you, Speaker?"

Lucien considered his words, but locked eyes onto Malkhai's. It was uncanny the way certain facial expressions could speak as well as the tongue; hers told him: _"You need to rest... rest well somewhere comfortable, safe, and free of bothersome ruckus that the Sanctuary is often plagued with. I will provide it for you... you are welcome into my home."_

"I will be fine. That fort has survived thousands of years and thousands of storms like this." He was still staring at Malkhai with the entrancing brown eyes that caught the candlelight. "I will take my leave now. Rest well." He bowed reverently before departing.

"I suppose I better go back to the house." Malkhai followed with a stretch. "I'm anxious to get that fireplace going and curl up with a good book. Which reminds me, I'm done borrowing The Lusty Argonian Maid, Ocheeva; I'll return it tomorrow."

"Wha...what are you talking about, that's not my book." Ocheeva stuttered with nervous eyes looking down at the stone floor.  
"No. Of course not. My mistake." Malkhai snickered. "See you all when I see you. I'm going to sleep for three straight days."

No one in the Sanctuary was fully convinced that Malkhai and Lucien were going to separate homes, or that either of them were only going to sleep. They all exchanged suspecting grins, barely able to contain the laughter and remarks they wanted to make about the two.

Malkhai's feet splashed through the pathways littered with puddles. The rain was cold, but it washed away all the gritty mud and sweat that layered up on skin and clothes. She believed that there was something waiting at the front door of her home and approached with her heart beating in her stomach. Her pace was slow and somewhat reluctant, until a healthy streak of lightning branched out through the sky.

"Oh d'r lord! Aagh!" Malkhai cried out, immediately quickening her pace over the bridge and to the west wall. The salty sweat that the rain washed down into her eyes blurred her vision, but she had lived in Cheydinhal long enough to navigate through it blindfolded.

Finally she was at the doorstep of her own house; a long week of relaxation awaited her inside. But before she entered she scanned the area, hoping to see what she anticipated... somewhere.  
There was nothing but the steady, droning sound of the rain beating down on the rooftops and terrain. Everyone retreated to the indoors, except for the unfortunate guards that had to be at their posts no matter what.

_Guess I really will be seeing you later, LaChance._ The dunmer gloomed.

"Mal." She heard a familiar voice speak just before she entered. "Lu." Mal replied, gratefully spinning around. Brightness returned to her face.  
"You wanted to talk about the Roxey... right?" He had a warm, yet sinister light in his eyes as he approached.  
"Y... yeah um... whe-." The sensuous aura she picked up from him gave her trembles all over, including her lips.  
"Let's talk, then."

His right arm hooked around Malkhai's waist as he pulled her to him with the same eagerness he displayed before, lavishing her lips with kisses of sincere love and want. It was expected, yet when it happened it still drained strength from her legs. To gesture that she welcomed this she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kisses. He stood a few inches taller than her, so she had to stand on the tips of her toes to meet his height.

But then Lucien fixed that problem for her. One free arm was all he needed to lift the lightweight dunmer off her feet and wedge her between his body and the wooden doors. Such sudden and vigorous movements were almost as frightening as it was intoxicating. Their faces were level with each other; all the better to see the eyes that practically demanded him to continue.

_Indeed... Speak to me. Talk to me all night_. Malkhai's mind and body screamed.

One by one articles of clothing fell to the ground once the door closed behind them. Lucien struggled with his left sleeve, but once it was carefully pulled over his hand they returned to the intense entanglement. Malkhai had almost forgotten that he was impaired the way he effortlessly moved her around using one arm.

When their wild tango finally migrated to the bed, Lucien proceeded to take her... and a storm as sounding and turbulent as the one outside commenced...

...howling wind, rumbling thunder, and a torrential downpour.

And then... stillness took back the night. Not even a voice interrupted it. Words were not needed to speak of what took place in that house and how happy their togetherness brought them. The last thing they saw before a deep sleep arrested them was gratefulness glistening in weary eyes.

A lazy Sundas morning came. The sun strained to break through the overcast skies with little avail. Every few minutes a blast of wind hit the side of the house, causing the glass of the windows to rattle. Teaming with the cold seeping in through small cracks it gently pulled the Speaker out of his heavy sleep.

"Nrrgh." He groaned when the pain in his hand woke with him.

Gently sliding out from under the limp arm of his love as she remained undisturbed in her dreamworld, he made his way over to the small kitchen down the hallway with light steps. As a practicing alchemist he knew exactly what to look for in the cabinet.

_Honeyvine- yes.I knew I saw it in here_. He thought.

Something disturbed him as he helped himself to one of the jars. It sent a tingle through his body, alerting him to a third presence in the house. The steady flow of cold air slithering about had a sudden change of speed and direction.

Someone opened the front door.

_They would brave this weather?_

_..._

_Of course they would... if it was important._

After checking the bedroom to make sure no one but Malkhai was inside, he searched the rest of the house, keeping his senses open to the slightest change in the premise. The intruder could be invisible.

"How's the hand, LaChance?" The startled imperial swung around and snapped instinctively into a defensive stance. But he knew who that voice belonged to once it registered in his mind, and then he loosened his rigid posture.

"Levik?"

"Correct."

Levik Rofelle was a messenger of the Black Hand, assigned to carry out his tasks in the northeastern section of Cyrodiil. He was generally a polite and well-respected dunmer, much like LaChance, but his suspicious entrance into Malkhai's home did not inspire a warm greeting.

"I see that despite that little accident you had, you are making yourself more than comfortable here in Cheydinhal." Levik sneered with a crooked grin, pointing to the bedroom with his eyes. "Lucky for you it is not unlawful."

A considerable amount of weight lifted from Lucien's chest. If anyone was a reliable source of accurate information it would be Levik since he was such an avid history buff. He would be the one that would actually read and remember the Black Hand's complete list of laws.

"But you do understand that lawful or not there will be consequences. You are the head of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, and within that group of family members there are bound to be a few that will give her trouble for this. Do you know why?"  
"I think so... but go on anyway." Lucien straightened up and continued eating the honeyvine.

"Whether it is her intention or not, she will be suspected of trying to gain favoritism from you... and don't kid yourself LaChance, she will have a higher place in your eyes and you will give her more pardon than the others... because you already have."  
"Levik, you didn't come all the way out from Bravil to lecture me on how I should handle my personal life. You came here for a more important reason, what is it?"  
"Yes, you are right. I am here to deliver a message to you... but we're still on the subject of Ms. Ale'Zandre."

Up until that moment Lucien's eyes were focused on the silver knife that he used to strip off pieces of the honeyvine, which was like slicing through an uncooked potato. They shot a fiery glare at Levik.

"You do realize that the traitor is still among us."

"Not her." He was quick to deny. "This all began long before she was a fresh initiate. Tell Belis he needs to check the records again with his glasses _on_."  
"Yes, but the traitor may not be working alone. The inc-"

They froze when they heard faint moaning upstairs. "-outside."

Lucien nodded and followed the messenger through the door, not particularly keen about leaving the comforts of the house to stand in the rain for goodness knows how long it had to take for Levik to finish up. But there was at least a small roof that hung over the front door; it kept most of the rain off of them, but the cruel winds would throw a light spray at them now and then.

"The increased rate of deaths suggest there is now a second. Think you can guess the approximate time that the rate increased?"

Lucien dropped a heavy sigh onto the ground. "After she joined?"  
Levik nodded. "It is unlikely... but not impossible, LaChance. Do you truly know this elf? Where was she before the arena?"  
"She was imprisoned."  
"And what was she in prison for?"

"Sh...she..." It clicked- Lucien understood the comparison Levik was making and it unnerved him. "...she wouldn't just stand and let... them..."

"Having trouble getting the words out? I thought you broke your hand, not your jaw." Levik enjoyed drilling into LaChance. "You know it... she betrayed her superiors. She not only disobeyed orders, she killed a Chief Soldier of the Imperial Legion."  
"And how much do you know about that, Levik? Do you not know the circumstances that pressured her into making that decision?"

"I know. But 'why' is not important in this matter- it's the fact that she did. She is an unpredictable free-spirit, eager to take control when given the opportunity. She doesn't think at all about the Night Mother; she doesn't even believe She exists. She thinks only about reward and not the passion for pleasing Mother or Father. And... adverse feelings toward her Brothers and Sisters are blooming..."  
"How are you learning all of this?"

"Please tell me you are joking! Agh... there must really be such a thing as fuck'n yer brains out'! Mother knows everything... Mother tells our Listener everything. At least what's important for us to know. She knows Malkhai- everything she ever was, everything she ever did, everything she talks or thinks about outside the chapels."

_Mother knows so much about our newest member... yet seems to know nothing about the traitor. I wish I could speak to her myself to get the answers for that._ Lucien thought.

"It is highly unlikely, Levik." The imperial insisted.

"Y's, y's... I am not confirming that she is the traitor I am simply saying... that while you remain in Cheydinhal throughout the time that you need to heal... be observant. Pay attention to where she goes, how she acts- look for clues in this house... catch signs of treachery that she might throw off. And, I really don't think I need to say this, but... do not mention our little chat to her at all. We will know if you do... because Mother always knows."  
"Alright. But I don't believe that-"  
"The Black Hand does not care about opinions based on the gushy-mushy feelings. We need opinions based on hard-cold facts. I will now part. Sithis be with you."

No further word, or even a nod, was given to the messenger before Lucien turned back into the house. He crawled back into bed, disrupting the elf a little when she felt the mattress sink in the middle. In stiff, slow movements she stretched out and put her arm back on his chest.  
Lucien closed his eyes, but because Levik gave him something to ponder he did not sleep. Instead he meditated on the issue with the traitor.

_I don't want to agree with them... but I can't blame them for not ruling even you out. We've always been a cautious group. But... you can't be the accomplice. You can't._  
_I... hope you are not. Because... if you are...so help me..._

He breathed another heavy sigh on Malkhai's neck as he brushed it with lips. _You are not! No!_

_However, accomplice or not, her life was in danger for simply being a suspect._ He wanted to keep her protected, but he knew what it meant for him if he dared to defy the will of the Night Mother. For the first time in his entire life there was an inclination to put someone above even Sithis. So if it turned out that she betrayed her new family... nothing could strike his heart with a crueler blade.

The dreading thoughts melted away when he noticed Malkhai groggily waking up. With his signature cunning grin and soft voice he spoke onto her neck. "You sleep rather soundly for a Murderer."

His corny joke earned him a whispery chuckle from Malkhai as she burried her face between his chin and chest.

"Goodness. That's quite an impressive puddle there."  
"Yeah? Well that's your fault y'know."  
"I...eheh...I was... talking about your drooling, Mal."

"OH! Ha. Oh yes... I'm a drooler. Sorry- I'll try to keep it on my side." Malkhai's hand glided down from his shoulder, then like a careful surgeon, held the hand it belonged to up for a close inspection. "How's the hand?"  
"As long as I don't think about it too much and I keep eating the honeyvine... it's not too bad."  
"Good." The elf returned his hand to where it was resting on his hip, never-minding the fact he raided her cabinet. "Aren't you glad, at least, that it wasn't your right hand?"

"Well..." His wicked grin stretched out. "...I could still ask for assistance."

Malkhai snorted.

"I'm gonna...geeerrgaaargHH!" Malkhai sat up with another long stretch to the ceiling, making things crack and pop all over. "...hell with it, I'm goin' back t'sleep." With a audible thump, the back of her head hit the goosefeather pillow. "Sounds like fun. I'll do the same."

Lucien gathered all the elf that he could in his arms, in the manner that his mind wanted to embrace all belief that she was not the betrayer. Malkhai, completely oblivious to the assault Levik's word of caution had on his mind, chuckled again when the fuzz on his chest tickled her face. After an hour or so he would completely dismiss Levik's words, at least for the moment. Instead he dipped into a more pleasant pool of contemplations. As anyone fresh in a relationship would, he began to wonder where it all started- when exactly did they fall in love?

But one does not simply fall into love, at least not the kind that anyone can hope would last. It is a gradual incline from a solid friendship. Love, which should never be confused with physical attraction, is mutual loyalty, companionship, and devotion. It is probably safe to say that the love began the very moment they both realized that they were dedicated to support and sustain each other through what ever hell or heaven threw at them.

The willingness to self-sacrifice is a part of love as well... but that is another story.


End file.
